


Domestication

by ourdeceit



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Hannibal, Bottom Will, Bottom Will Graham, Consensual Sex, Dark Will, Domestic Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Explicit Sex, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Manipulative Will Graham, Medical Kink, Mild Kinks, Multiple kinks, Murder Husbands, Oral Sex, Possessive Hannibal, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Public Sex, Sassy Will Graham, Top Will, Top Will Graham, Voice Kink, Will Knows, Will Loves Hannibal, appreciate hannibal more please, fucking smutty hannigram, hannibal has separation issues, hannibal is a little paranoid, lil babes should use caution while reading, manipulation kink, nbc hannibal - Freeform, this isn't all about sex I swear, will graham just needs to come fully to terms, will tries to cook something decent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 17:32:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13036011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourdeceit/pseuds/ourdeceit
Summary: Hannibal and Will discover each other more thoroughly in every possible way. Their relationship burrows deeper than it ever did before Will sent them plummeting to the sea, where the waves spared them mercy. The devil and his lover were deemed to live another day, but with each passing day nothing is simplified and nothing is utterly perfect. Deception and manipulation remain to be an intoxication, but beneath the facades and hard demeanor, Will and Hannibal want nothing more than to love each other more profusely and wholly than they ever could before.Will reaps more than he can take, but the devil's kiss is too sweet.





	Domestication

   Will did not expect a picnic.

   It seemed quite unlike Hannibal to be caught frolicking in the grass, dressed in his pristine attire of a navy suit paired with a burnt orange and brick red checkered tie to be topped off with a brightly colored pink handkerchief tucked neatly in the pocket of the blazer. It contradicted the white shirt beneath and his naturally tanned skin, which looked a shade darker in the light of the beating sun, but he managed to make the whole outfit pull together effortlessly. Perhaps it was merely just the fact that Will had seen his companion dressed in an array of colors paired with odd shades, ones more pigmented and contrasting than even the pink with the burnt orange. Hannibal was a man who held his demeanor high, and carried the basket containing their unrevealed lunch just as such.

  Hannibal had often described his viewing upon the world to Will; in return, Will offered his opinion, though it was never quite as elaborate or complex. The outside was unpredictable and unforgiving, with people who did and said unspeakable things and were horridly uncivilized; the inside was filled with comfort and the foreseeable. The inside consisted of just he and Will, and Will would always explain that the outside could consist of that, too, if only Hannibal gave it the opportunity. Will explained that it was more complex than that, that there was beauty in the confusing and the chaos that people presented. Hannibal might have agreed with a nod just to please Will and he would swallow his argument whole. Will could see it, of course, in the way Hannibal's mouth twitched at the corner, lips pulling for the briefest of moments only to reside back as it was. He was smiling then, and Will returned it just as halfheartedly.

   They had taken as much time as they desired to pick apart their lunch. Hannibal had prepared them an absolutely divine course of salmon rillettes, accompanied with pain au chocolat to help it settle. William's lips wrapped around two chocolate coated digits in an attempt to clean the mess his dessert had caused, and Hannibal watched most intently. He had always adored to draw Will and had studied his features rather extensively in his portrait studies. Will's mouth had grown to be a favorite, prominently because of the curve of his lips and how the shape suited the jutted edge of his cheekbones, the flushed color paired perfectly with the ice-like blue orbs that stared back at him now, curious and knowing all the same.

   Hannibal took only a moment to finish the last of his croissant, purely savoring the taste with a low hum rumbling in his throat. Will smiled delightfully, as if he found nothing more entertaining than watching Hannibal enjoy himself so thoroughly. He was compliant, even, when Hannibal merely held out his hand in a silent offer. Will's fingers wrapped around the latter's wrist, thumb skimming over his beating pulse, and those lips Hannibal admired so deeply closed around three digits at once, tongue lavishing around them and collecting the sweet taste of chocolate that had melted and created a mess he knew Hannibal was not very fond of. To watch Will look at him and to feel the hot and thriving muscle slip between his fingers in an effort to thoroughly clean - Hannibal jotted a note in the very back of his mind to picnic more often, and to make pain au chocolat more often.

   "I can't decide," he finally concluded, "whether I enjoy the dessert or the aftermath more."

   Will merely hummed in response. His hold, though it was just a caressing touch, fell from Hannibal's wrist to his knee. Pink lips pulled away with a quiet pop, a sound that was as satisfying as it was alluring. "I enjoyed the meal." Will's expression switched to gratified. Hannibal took notice to the speck of chocolate upon his chin, but said nothing and made no move to clean it. He let Will be pleasantly oblivious to it. "Who was it, then?"

   Hannibal's brow raised. He said nothing, and Will shook his head in displeasure. "Madame Adele Bellerose, from the National Opera Association."

   "I see..." Will stood from the ground. "If you're looking for a position there, that must mean you're considering staying here."

   A bird chirped loudly, the ringing sound drowning the breath that exhaled deeply from Hannibal's chest. "Yes. Is that a bother to you?"

   "Of course not." Will's oxfords were slipped from his feet. The grass was cool and soft beneath his soles and most avidly welcomed. He was well aware of Hannibal following his every move, and most aware when Hannibal inhaled sharply as he bent. The fit of his shorts, a shade of blue lighter than Hannibal's suit, had done wonders to compliment his natural physique. The shorts were a gift from Hannibal, and Will had the buried wonder if it was deliberate. "I rather enjoy Paris. I wanted to know what it looked like in the winter months. Spring has been nice, though a little hot."

   "The sun is quite ruthless today." Hannibal's comment was met with a faint wave of his hand beneath his chin. Very little sweat seeped through his pores, at least compared to Will. The pits of his button up shirt were damp and Hannibal was presented the view of it as Will reached above his head to grasp the branch of the tree they had been sitting under while having a pleasant picnic. "Is it the chocolate that has made you so energetic, Will, or are you simply having an enjoyable day?"

   Will swung his legs up with the strength he still carried from his years of training for the field and effortlessly clambered up the limbs of the tree until he was a matter of feet above Hannibal's head. He settled into a dipped branch, thighs straddling it much like he had straddled someone else hours before in the waking hours, when the sun was still down and light hardly poured through the windows of the apartment. His arms were scratched by the branches and leaves partially obstructed his viewing, but he was at an advantage nonetheless. "It's decent." The admittance was feigned, an untrue statement as the day had been better than decent and better than good. "I do believe your friend caught on that I was not just a friend, though. Still, he offered to take me to some... art showing next Tuesday, I believe. I can't be sure; French is still foreign to me."

  _"'Tu as fait une bonne prise. Homme attrayant. Bon au lit, je présume?'"_

   Will frowned, and Hannibal grinned. "That isn't fair."

   "'You made a good catch. Attractive man. Good in bed, I presume?'" Hannibal repeated, almost as if he was reading from a novel. "That is all he had to say - about you, anyway. The man never shut up."

   Will's legs swayed back and forth and Hannibal made a halfhearted effort to catch at his ankle. He came an inch short. "Well, _Alexandre_ , am I good in bed?"

   The question was asked most teasingly, but Hannibal could not help the grimace that overtook him at the sound of his alias falling from Will's tongue so carelessly and stresssed. "You are well aware of how I feel about that, Theo."

   It was a three sided question and Will caught on to it, as he always did. Will did not immediately answer, however, but took a moment to situate himself upon the branch. His chest lay flat against it, arms resting upon the bark with his hands idly pulling at a bundle of green leaves. He could see Hannibal properly now and was displaying a proud grin, one that made the corners of his eyes wrinkle in delight. He was most beautiful like this - calm and sedated, radiating a joy that Hannibal found contagious; still, he found the sight of Will crumbling to insanity just as pleasing. For now he could allow Will to enjoy himself, for anything was worth the smile he was showing. "If I were to base my conclusion upon observations and perhaps even statistics, driven from past experiences that I did take note upon..." Hannibal reached up once again, but Will pulled his foot from reach. "I would conclude that I am _very_ good in bed."

   "A matter of opinion. Might I add, you did beg for it."

   Will did allow it this time. When Hannibal's hand wrapped around his ankle, Will's toes curled and he breathed a sound similar to a laugh. Airy, deep, and tauntingly beautiful. "The solid fact that you could hardly contain yourself this morning -" Hannibal took the slight advantage of height, now that he was standing, to draw Will closer. The look adorned his placid features stated to be cautious with where he tread, but Will was never afraid to step on a boundary as loose as this. "I should say you enjoyed yourself. I have the evidence of it, quite literally."

   "Of course," Hannibal hummed, "Why else would you have retreated to the washroom so abruptly?"

   The corner of Will's mouth twitched. "I didn't want the evidence to ruin these shorts you bought me."

   "Those boxers must be in utter ruin, hm?"

   In the solidity of the garden, Will did not feel any shame in pressing his lips to Hannibal's, who took the bottom muscle in a teasing hold. There was no shame in the physical aspects of their relationship; both were guarded in the complexity and, in fact, the evidence of it. Hannibal had presented Will as a friend to Marius Bellerose, a violinist in the opera, merely because of social status and to toy with the man's perception. Hannibal had left the indentations of a lover so clearly there upon William's neck that it would have been difficult to avoid the obviousness of it and it was to his satisfaction that Marius had caught on faster than Will had bet. He had tread over a line of politeness then, however, when he had assumed there was an openness about their relationship. He had asked Will out and that was more than Hannibal was willingly to convey as friendly courtship. No, he had imagined himself gutting Marius from the gentiles to the abdomen, harvesting his liver for a dinner to be shared with Will that would end, no doubt, in a night similar to what they would share tonight; only Hannibal would be all the more satisfied to know that Will could not ponder on the idea of Marius when Marius was no longer there to even exist, let alone offer another invitation for his company.

  Will gave a single tug to retrieve his swollen lip, though the lack of contact did nothing to quench any sudden desires. He could feel that something was rattling through the other man's mind, making it tick fast and hard, harder than it needed to. Marius was a subject that Hannibal was bound to overlook. He had more trouble letting small matter pass over than Will did, although both men had displayed similar cases of flaming protectiveness. Will would call it jealousy now, but only because it was Hannibal experiencing it and not himself. He would not consider himself jealous, for he knew without any doubts that Hannibal would never do him the dishonor of cheating. Boundaries and titles had not been set, but the premise of their relationship had clearly been there for longer than they had been willing to fully acknowledge. Will might credit Hannibal the title of _boyfriend_ , but it didn't suit him. This wasn't some childlike fascination or a whim that would last for six months, give or take. Lover sounded to fit their predicament more accurately, but even that lacked the depth and complexity to explain what he and Hannibal shared.

   "Sit, Hannibal. Let me tell you a story."

   If Will had expected Hannibal to obey orders, he was to be mistaken. Hannibal's hand slid from its place on William's ankle up his calve, behind his knee, beneath the shorts he so loved and adored, palm splayed across the warm skin of Will's thigh. It was not meant as a distraction, but the touch did cause Will to falter. His eyelids fell closed, long and dark lashes brushing against the top of his jagged cheekbone; then he recollected himself and decided to direct his attention elsewhere, to his hand that traveled to Hannibal's hair. His fingers brushed through the slick and graying hair, bluntly disheveling the perfect style he had combed it back in. If it were anyone else Hannibal would have reacted differently, but he let Will do as he pleased. As much as he hated it, not an utter of protest or rebuke seeped past his lips. On the contrary, he smiled as he urged Will to continue with a hardened press against the inside of the younger man's thigh.

   "Are you familiar with the tale of Psyche and Cupid?" Will inquired. He leaned into the touch of Hannibal's hand coming to rest upon his cheek, welcoming the touch wholeheartedly and openly. He had the faint idea of the tale in mind now and worked to recollect it entirely, but Hannibal's hand exploring further up his thigh was not allowing for much else to be focused on.

   Hannibal nodded, his thumb absentmindedly sweeping across the scar adorning Will's cheek. He would never forget how that came to be or who caused it, and a deep loathing would never cease to boil within his veins because of it. Still, he gazed into blue eyes with a usual calmness, almost serenely. "I am." He caught the downcast beginning to settle and was quick to ease it away with an encouragement. "Tell me anyway."

   "Psyche was so fair and beautiful that Venus, the Goddess of Love and Beauty, was overcome by a bitter jealousy. The people had forgotten to worship her, as Psyche's beauty outshone that of the people in the land and the gods. Venus instructed her son Cupid, the winged God of Love, to shoot his golden arrows and make Psyche fall in love with most dreadful man. However, Cupid could not, for he had fallen in love with Psyche upon his first glance of her beauty. He loved her so dearly that he felt as if he had shot himself with one of own arrows, overcome with a powerful and forbidden love." A smile reminisced on Hannibal's lips, and Will watched as he swallowed. "And so Cupid begged Apollo to aid him in tricking his jealous mother. They constructed a plan to deceive Psyche's father in allowing her to marry a man upon the mountain to save his people from a terrible serpent. There was no serpent upon the mountain, but Psyche could feel the gentle breeze of a brushing hand during the dark of night. There, she was treated like a goddess by invisible servants. Psyche never saw her husband's face, but even so quietly fell in love with the very idea of him. Then one evening Cupid allowed Psyche to retrieve her two sisters up to the mountain. She was warned to not listen to their words or warning of a great serpent, for 'on the day you know who I am, we will be parted forever,'" Hannibal muttered it with him, "but as her sisters hissed their threatening worries hidden behind a mask of jealousy over her good treatment, Psyche began to fall to their concerns. In the dark of night she took a candle, and finally saw her husband's face."

  "Do you think Cupid was attractive?" Hannibal questioned, the inquiry hindering Will from continuing on.

  Still, the man could not withhold the brief chuckle that seeped past a wide smile. "Of course. Psyche didn't become so obsessed for no reason at all. I imagine he looked much like you, only without the wings and the literally golden skin."

  Hannibal quirked an eyebrow. "I'm flattered." Will gave a gentle and playful kick to the man's side. "Alright, go on. I won't interrupt with my curiosity."

  Will rolled his eyes. "His beauty was so entrapping that Psyche could not see the wax dripping from her candle to her husband's golden skin. It awoke Cupid from his peaceful slumber and immediately the God of Love flew away with a fleeting cry. 'Love can not exist without honesty and trust.' Psyche was heartbroken by her own foolishness. For years she searched for Cupid, but she could not find her beloved. She asked Olympus' gods for aid, but Venus' wrath was too great and struck fear within the gods. Venus discovered her son's disobedience and selfishness. She locked him away in a prison of solidity and barrenness, searching for the girl named Psyche who was crumbling Venus' world from down around her. Venus challenged the girl with three difficult tasks, but even the creatures that crawled and slithered took sympathy upon Psyche and aided her in her tasks. Venus was so angered that she challenged Psyche to visit the Underworld and retrieve a piece of beauty from Persephone. The girl was successful and traveled a long journey back to Venus, but along the way she became selfish and took a piece of Persephone's beauty. It crippled her into a deep sleep that she could not awaken from. But Cupid, having escaped the prison his mother had confined him in and forgiven his wife, found Psyche and removed Persephone's beauty from her possession. He beckoned her to the gates of Olympus to converse with his mother and beg Jupiter to allow the marriage between the god and the girl. Psyche was so pure and cunning that Jupiter accepted and Venus was forced to allow the presence of Psyche; however, she was so impressed with Psyche's ability to resist the temptation of taking Persephone's beauty, and now knew that the girl was not intending to overcome Venus' beauty."

   "And so Cupid and Psyche became a renowned tale of a god and goddess' forbidden love." Hannibal spoke in nothing louder than a mutter, breaths hitting Will in soft puffs with each spoken word. Will could smell the chocolate still lingering there, and could taste it when he stole another kiss. "Do you know what else they call Venus?" He asked, unruffled by the sudden gesture that he was eager to take another one of. He was not as chaste with the kiss, but took his deliberate time to draw the breath from Will's lungs until it began to sting. Only then did he allow him to breath.

   "Aphrodite." Will's reply was breathless, but given nonetheless. "Aphrodite in the Greek tales, and Venus in Roman history. In the same way, Jupiter is associated with the Romans and Zeus coincides with the Greek."

   Much to William's dismay, he was given the sudden loss of contact upon his thigh. Hannibal's hands, both of them now, cupped Will's jaw. "You tell the tale well. No..." He paused, the gleam in his eye only serious, "perfectly. You told it perfectly. Is there something about Psyche and Cupid that catches your interest?"

   His cheeks flushed, the same flush creeping down his neck. "We don't have Aphrodite combating the forces of an undeniable love." _Love_. The word was foreign upon his lips and tasted bitter, but it felt only right to finally name what he felt for Hannibal. "There are... other forces trying to take us further apart in a condemnation for our crimes."

   "Jack Crawford, for instance." Will confirmed it with a nod and Hannibal persisted. "Do you regret it?"

   "I cannot bare to imagine a life without you, Hannibal, and I could never allow such a - I could never allow it to happen. I tried and fell into foolish desires like Psyche had, but I understand what bond intertwines us." Will was being honest, perhaps the most honest he had ever been. It felt entirely odd to be admitting that which had rattled his mind for ages now, but relieving all the same. "You're as mysterious as Cupid and always coming to rescue me from my own selfish demise."

   It was within a quick moment, but Will was standing upon his two feet now. Barefoot with the grass beneath his toes and Hannibal's hands still there, resting upon his neck, gaze never faltering. "Psyche pursued her curiosity without a regard given to what Cupid had warned her because she could not bare living without knowing what her lover looked like. I imagine she thought he was a monster, though he might not be the snake everyone warned her about. Do you think she was only scared of him, Will, or truly in love?"

   Will was the one who could not allow himself to break the barrier that separated secretiveness from an open honesty. If he tried to simply mutter the three words of 'I love you' it would be nothing but an incoherent stutter. Hannibal must have _known_ how William felt, given everything and the intimacy they were not afraid to share, so why was he trying to pry the words out of him? "Psyche wasn't scared of him, but she had good reason to be. She was infatuated with him because he was like no one else. A mysterious stranger who swept her off her feet without needing to lift much of a hand. All he had to do was care for her, and she was hooked."

   "Did you take the bait, Will?"

   Will could feel his heart hammering against the confines of his ribs. Hannibal's lips brushed against his. "You could have used an empty hook and I would have bitten regardless." He was close but not close enough to grasp. "I was sculpted to fit you."

   "By who?"

   "You."

   Hannibal's eyes fluttered closed. He was deviling in the moment, basking in the sunlight and the admittance and the pure adoration radiating from the body before him, a figure that was so utterly in love with him that it was pathetically blissful. There was such a lack of bitterness in William's voice that it was nothing but wonder, a _thankfulness_ , laced beneath it. Hannibal felt now, truly, that he had accomplished all he had set out to do. Every effort was not wasted. Every body had achieved its purpose. Hannibal's creation was complete.

   Will was observing the twitch beneath Hannibal's closed eyelids and every micro-expression that followed thereafter. The pleasure was etched into every line, practically seeping from his pores as happiness was simply radiating through him, turning through his veins, speeding the beating of his heart that thumped against Will's chest. The man leaned into his touch as Will's hand rose to Hannibal's cheek, his touch gentle and fair. His kiss was similar, the ghost of a brush with the slightest bit of teeth. Hannibal was welcoming and eager and forceful as he pulled William closer and drew the space between them to a full close - chest flushed against chest, jaws clashing in a hungry fight that Hannibal's dominance always persisted in. Will could do nothing but utter a moan beneath it, the whisper of Hannibal's name like a sin. Not a prayer. No, one didn't pray to the devil, certainly not the devil's lover.

   "I love you." It came in a whisper, a whisper drowned into Hannibal's mouth. Will muttered it again, again, and again until he could say it no more - until Hannibal was eating every word with a hunger that was completely unquenchable and neither man could do anything but fall to the grass and do exactly as they shouldn't. Naked, flushed, thrusting, and moaning each other's name with an urgency that was met with overpowering currents of physical pleasure. Hannibal's hips jutted in their final attempts and Will tried with all his possible might to draw himself up and bring himself down once again, but even the slight grind was enough to toss both men closer to the apex of ecstasy. It was only when Hannibal muttered his love in return that Will came undone and Hannibal followed suit, unable to bear the pressure forced upon him. He spilled inside his lover and his lover welcomed it with an uncanny grace, painting his lover's chest in return. The moments that followed suit were barren of civility, but the garden was filled with only them.

   Hannibal and Will were nothing like Psyche and Cupid. The tale of a god and goddess' love could not compare to what surpassed any story of love - the sensations, the consequences, and everything that followed. Love could not be written or explained. This love, the intimacy that blossomed between two cannibalistic killers was too complex to even explain. Finding suitable words to describe it - it felt simply impossible. Hannibal couldn't try, no matter how far and wide his exceptional vocabulary extended.

   But Will... he was perfectly content displaying his love like this.

   In the grass, making love, with Hannibal's name tainting his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> A third fic by yours truly, because heaven forbid I finish one before starting another. I had the idea on my mind for a while now, so I thought it would be better to simply begin writing it rather than storing it for later and, in turn, forgetting about the small details as time goes on and I further procrastinate on it.  
> I hope you enjoyed the small snippet of very vague sex. Future sex scenes will be much more thoroughly described; deep description just wouldn't have coincided well with the theme of the chapter.  
> All in all, I have a ton of muse for this particular story at the moment, as with Little Boy Blue, so continue to expect frequent updates. This week is filled with essays for one professor in particular (complete hardass) so that will, of course, be my first priority.  
> Friendly reminder that if you ever want to roleplay with me, you can find me on instagram! My handle there is the same as here (ourdeceit). I have a post there that lists all available plots, though I am certainly not opposed to this plot or any other! The Hannibal roleplay community is ridiculously dead, so let's pick it back up.


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